


are we to speak

by uraa



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Found Family, Gen, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-22
Updated: 2017-09-22
Packaged: 2019-01-03 23:56:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12157431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uraa/pseuds/uraa
Summary: Takashi’s standing by the window, arms halfway through the sleeves of one of his old shirts, watching the soft desert dusk like he’s transfixed by the sight.





	are we to speak

**Author's Note:**

> usually i dont post stuff this short but like its 12:41 am and im sooo tired and this seems like a good idea rn. also its cheesy just warning u. gotta love cheesy broganes
> 
> oh also this is set in s1e1 when theyve gone back to keiths cabin just after rescuing shiro

The cabin is nearly dark by the time they finally find themselves alone. Takashi’s standing by the window, arms halfway through the sleeves of one of his old shirts, watching the soft desert dusk like he’s transfixed by the sight. His prosthetic arm reflects the dusty lavender of the sky, and the pale scars on his back stand out in the half-light. Keith swallows.

“Hey,” he says. The word comes sort of choked from his throat. It feels like too much and not enough at the same time.

Takashi doesn’t startle, but he does jerk a little, spurred into motion by Keith’s voice. He turns to face him and pulls the shirt fully over his head with a half-embarrassed smile. “Hey, man.”

Keith isn’t sure what to say. Outside, a dry wind is working its way across the sand, whistling in the cracks of the shack he’s made his house, and he listens to it for a second before he speaks. “I…” This awkwardness that he can’t seem to maneuver around is new and unexpected and frustrating. He fights the urge to grit his teeth. “Do you- do you need anything?”

Fondness makes Takashi’s smile soften. “Keith,” he says, reaching out with his human hand, “c’mere.”

Keith ventures the two steps forward, takes Takashi’s hand, and finds himself pulled into an embrace. Takashi doesn’t pat his back like someone else might, just winds his prosthetic arm securely around Keith’s shoulders, the metal of it hard but not cold through his shirt. He smells like old clothes and disinfectant. Keith reaches his free arm across Takashi’s back and squeezes, lets out a breath. This time, words come to him.

“I really- we all-“ he swallows hard and tries again. “I thought you were gone.” The last word comes out pinched, cut off as he tries to work around the lump in his throat. “I’m-“ his voice breaks, and Keith closes his mouth, resigned to stand there in the hug without speaking until he can push back the tears gathering in his throat.

He might be imagining it, but he thinks Takashi might squeeze him tighter before he lets go. “Hey,” he says, and they’re still close enough that Keith can hear the word rumble through the space between them, “it’s okay, you know. To cry.”

“I know,” Keith whispers, because he can’t find the voice to put behind the words. “I just- um. I don’t know.”

“You do or you don’t?” Takashi quips, but his voice is bordering on cracking too.

“Shut up. You know what I meant.”

There’s a few seconds of silence, and the only sound in the room is the rush of their breaths combined with the rush of the wind outside. Takashi is the one to break the stillness, pulling away and rubbing the back of his head. The breath he takes is shuddery, on the verge of tears. “I missed this,” he says. “Space gets to you after a while.”

His scars and his arm show that a lot more than just the vast empty blackness of space got to him, but Keith doesn’t mention it. “Yeah,” he says. “I’m- it’s good to have you back. Takashi.”

Takashi’s smile turns fully watery at that, and he pulls Keith to him again, squeezes him a little beyond what’s comfortable. “Keith,” he says. “God. I really did miss you.”

The light’s darkened to nearly pitch black without either of them noticing, and the steady rise and fall of Takashi’s chest is warmth against the cool darkness. For the first time in nearly a year, Keith isn’t alone in the bedroom.

 _Oh,_ he thinks, _this is what home feels like._

 


End file.
